


Yeah Yeah

by yeaka



Series: Yup This. [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis, Prompto, and the quest to get laid.





	1. Smooches

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is some random PWP set between chapters 8 and 9 of Yes Please. Didn’t want to break the flow of that, but also didn’t want to leave you guys without some pay off, so here we are...
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or Cup Noodles any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Being ushered into the prince’s apartment on their first real date is a surreal experience. Talking over dinner brought them close enough already, and Prompto’s entire body sings with the telltale beginnings of _pleasure_ , but he can’t help being distracted once he’s crossed the threshold. He kicks off his shoes with only a brief glimpse around—the initial hallway doesn’t have much of interest. But then Noctis is leading Prompto by the hand out into the living area, and Prompto’s eyes go everywhere.

His body wants to just drag Noctis down to the black leather couch. He can tell Noctis wants that too. But he finds himself drifting towards the giant flat-screen TV, and Noctis lets him, following patiently along. Prompto looks over the stack of games next to it, the consoles half pulled out, controllers and remotes trailing over to the coffee table. There’s a polished kitchenette devoid of dishes but sporting empty cup noodle packets. The dining table’s exquisite—all the furniture is. The enormous windows look out over the sprawling city below, the sky dark but a flurry of artificial lights making Insomnia glow. All in all, it’s smaller than what Prompto expected for the prince of Lucis, but it’s still very expensive-looking, and Prompto would still be down if it was a dingy hole in the wall. 

When he’s finished satisfying his curiosity, he turns back to Noctis, who still has his hand. Giving it a little squeeze, Prompto tries to form words of praise, but instead just steps in and gives Noctis a kiss. Noctis eagerly returns it, pressing back into him. It’s a glorious first kiss, skipping right past chaste and onto tongue, Noctis pushing right into him and swallowing him up. Then Prompto remembers it’s _not_ their first kiss—they already made out in an elevator last week, back when they were both unwittingly pining after one another from afar.

That one was steamy. It definitely made Prompto want _more_ , even if it did turn his world upside-down for a week. But this one’s so much _better_ , because Prompto feels like he’s really getting to know the man he’s making out with, and he knows for certain that Noctis wants him back.

Without any pause for discussion, Noctis starts guiding Prompto towards the couch, and Prompto obediently follows. When they stop kissing long enough to maneuver around the coffee table, Prompto mumbles, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Me too. I’m seriously your biggest fan.”

Prompto laughs, and somehow, the expected wave of embarrassment doesn’t come. His shame’s lessened over the course of the night, replaced instead with the relief of acceptance. The worry over what Noctis would say when he realized that Prompto wasn’t just a camboy, but one that regularly said his prince’s name during his streams, ate Prompto up before the date. Now that he knows Noctis was _watching_ a bunch of those streams, and even getting into it, Prompto can’t help seeing it in a different light. In a way, it’s actually kind of a turn on, knowing Noctis saw him in the throes of things. 

As they both climb down onto the couch, awkwardly trying to readjust to be as close to one another as possible, Prompto asks, “Did you really think they were...?”

“Hot?” Noctis fills in, before covering Prompto’s mouth with his own. It’s a long, open-mouthed kiss before Noctis parts them enough to finish, “Fuck yeah.”

Prompto knows he’s grinning like an idiot. He kisses Noctis more, one hand lifting to run through Noctis’ soft hair and the other daring to rest on Noctis’ thigh. Noctis loops an arm around Prompto’s waist, the other thrown over the back of the couch. When Prompto leans into Noctis, their whole bodies connect. He can’t help grinding them together a bit, rocking forward, and drinking in the moan that Noctis makes against his lips. It’s a good stretch before Prompto can break away long enough to talk again, because all he wants to do is bury himself in Noctis’ body. Somehow, he still manages to huskily ask, “Which part were you into...?”

“All of it,” Noctis hisses. His arm tightens around Prompto’s waist, refusing to let Prompto pull away again—now they’re both rocking together, Noctis’ hips erratically thrusting into him. Prompto’s more than halfway hard. He kisses along Noctis’ jaw as Noctis breathily adds, “Any time you got naked, or even when you didn’t, when you were just being so _cute_... fuck, I _loved_ when you said my name though, and you looked _so damn happy_...”

Prompto was. Orgasms were always better when his mind was honed in on Noctis. He tries to listen to his viewers, of course, to read the chat and keep up with them, but sometimes when it got too much, he’d close his eyes, picture Noctis’ handsome face, and scream out that name when he finished. The guilt would often set in afterwards, and it’s ridiculously thrilling to know he doesn’t have to have that anymore. Prompto moans and buries his face in Noctis’ shoulder, concentrating just on grinding into Noctis. If possible, Noctis is even hotter in person. Which is saying something. Because Prompto’s lusted after him for _years_.

Prompto needs _more_. He shakily returns to catch Noctis’ mouth, thrusting his tongue between Noctis’ lips and worming a hand between them. He forgets all propriety and presses his palm against the sizeable bulge in Noctis’ pants, his fingers digging in around it. He cups Noctis through the fabric and gives an up-and-down stroke.

A violent shake runs through Noctis’ body. Prompto does it again, aggressively touching his prince’s clothed cock, then tilts his head to moan, “ _Noctis_ ,” right in his prince’s ear.

Immediately, Noctis’ breath hitches, body seizing up. Prompto feels the fabric dampening against his palm. He has to hide his surprise when Noctis slumps back.

Flushed and breathing hard, Noctis groans. He drops his face into his hand and groans, “ _Shit._ ”

Prompto gives Noctis’ thigh a soothing squeeze. Noctis mutters, “So embarrassing...”

“Nah, it’s cool.” It really is. Of course Prompto _wanted_ it to go much longer—wanted to wait until Noctis was inside him for them both to come at once—but he has no idea how much experience Noctis actually has. And obviously they’re both super hyped up. Prompto’s own interest spiked at seeing Noctis come, and _feeling_ it, knowing he was the cause, but that tension goes down a bit as he pulls himself back to reassure Noctis. “If anything, it’s pretty flattering.”

Noctis doesn’t look convinced. Prompto offers a heartfelt smile and leans over to kiss the side of his mouth. 

Noctis returns the kiss, only to break away a second later when his phone goes off in his pocket. Groaning, he mutters, “I’m ignoring it,” and pulls Prompto in for another.

As much as Prompto would like to ignore it, he dodges Noctis’ next kiss and sighs, “Nah, you better answer it. I really don’t want the Citadel panicking and sending some glaives after me.”

Noctis scrunches up his nose, but on the third ring, he answers.

“Hello?”

Prompto can’t tell who’s on the other side, but whoever it is, they deepen Noctis’ frown.

“No, yeah, it went fine. Well, we just—no—I called dad’s driver—the Regalia—I was going to—well, uh... it’s not exactly over...” There’s a long pause, full of plenty of chatter on the other side. Noctis slowly pales as he listens, and that kills the rest of Prompto’s mood. He can tell it’s over. Which is fair. They probably should’ve have gone so far on the first date anyway. Even if they have, apparently, been jerking off to the thought of each other for months.

When Noctis hangs up, Prompto says for him, “I should go, shouldn’t I.” He doesn’t even phrase it like a question. Noctis’ mouth twists.

“I don’t want you to... but Iggy’s coming over to lecture me, so...”

“Can we see each other again?”

Noctis’ smile flitters back. He pecks Prompto on the lips, then asks, “Can I have your phone?”

Prompto fishes it out of his pocket and hands it over without question. He watches Noctis open the King’s Knight app and type in a friend code, then switch over to Contacts and add a phone number there. It goes without saying, but he voices, “Please don’t share this number with anyone.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t do anything to mess this up.”

Noctis grins at him, and it’s cute enough to make Prompto’s heart clench. When he gets his phone back, his hand’s lightly shaking. He’s still buzzing with joy.

“I can drive you home...”

“Nah, you should clean up for your guest. I’ll just get a taxi. But... tonight was amazing, so... call me?”

“Definitely,” Noctis answers, bestowing another kiss on Prompto, because they can’t seem to be apart for more than a minute. Blushing bright red, Noctis adds, “And I promise I won’t come so fast next time.”

Prompto’s face actually hurts from smiling. It’s incredibly difficult to detangle himself from Noctis, but somehow, he manages. Then he calls a taxi and leaves before Noctis can make him ruin his pants too.


	2. Mmm

Having spent the majority of his day surreptitiously texting Prompto under his desk, Noctis is more than ready to answer his door in the evening. He made sure the security would let Prompto through alone, having shown them photographs—clothed ones—of his new ‘friend,’ but he’s still relieved when he sees Prompto actually made it through. He stands in the hallway of Noctis’ apartment building with one hand nervously running back through his spiked hair and the other sporting a DVD case. Noctis takes him in from head to toe—dark coeurl-print pants, thick white belt, sleeveless black shirt—and grins from ear to ear. Prompto sheepishly grins back.

Immediately, the stress of the day melts away, and a warm, delighted feeling seeps into Noctis’ bones. He steps aside, making room for Prompto to shuffle in, and he impatiently waits while Prompto kicks out of his boots. Then Prompto’s looking up, opening his mouth, and Noctis dives forward to fill it with tongue.

He can’t help himself. He fumbles around to Prompto’s hands, taking the DVD and tossing it onto the nearest shelf. His mouth stays glued to Prompto’s. He takes one greedy kiss after another until he’s used up all his air and has to pull back to breathe, and even then, he keeps one hand on Prompto’s hip, a thumb in his belt-loop. Noctis knows he’s standing way too close but doesn’t have the will power to move back.

“Sorry,” he mutters, right before Prompto kisses him, swallowing up his words for a while. It takes a few minutes before they part again and he can manage, “I swear I really do want to just hang out with you sometime, but...”

“But we’ve been talking all week and it’s not enough, because all you want is to fuck this person’s brains out?”

“Yeah,” Noctis breathes. “That’s about right.”

Prompto grins like he understands, even though he couldn’t possibly want Noctis as much as Noctis wants him. He still happily acquiesces when Noctis takes over his mouth again, making out in the doorway for as long as they can. 

Prompto’s the first one to shuffle them back. He turns like he’s going to go for the living room, but Noctis wants more room to play. Room on a horizontal surface, anyway. There’s no way they’re settling for a movie now. He sticks two fingers into Prompto’s waistband and tugs him by it back towards the bedroom. Prompto follows, stealing kisses along the way.

Noctis just barely manages to flick the light on as they pass it. He somehow manages to get the door closed behind them. He can’t keep his hands or mouth off of Prompto, but Prompto seems to want to look around, so Noctis diverts his kisses down Prompto’s chin and sets in on his neck. Prompto’s must be _very_ sensitive there, because his fingers thread through Noctis’ hair, and he starts moaning like he’s on camera. Noctis loses all sense of propriety and starts to suck a hickey into Prompto’s shoulder. He hopes it shows up on camera next time Prompto does a show—Noctis wants everyone to know that Prompto’s taken.

He’d like it even better if he could tell everyone that Prompto’s _his_. He can’t wait until they’ve known each other long enough to be _official_ , to be seen in public together, not just hanging out as friends but kissing and holding hands like some sappy newlyweds. He wants Prompto to stand next to him in royal ceremonies, to become a permanent fixture at his side.

He’ll start with marking Prompto’s body, and he doesn’t stop until Prompto’s trembling against him and digging into his skull.

Then he pushes Prompto back to admire his handiwork. It glimmers, wet and pink, against Prompto’s pale skin. Noctis gives the mark a tender lick and starts pulling Prompto backwards, tugging him right down to the mattress.

“This is bizarre,” Prompto mumbles, even as he’s crawling after Noctis. Noctis slots himself up against the headboard, and Prompto comes in to meet him, straddling his lap and leaning in to kiss him. They pick right back up where they left off, tongues diving in and out of each other’s mouths. Noctis wraps both arms around Prompto’s trim waist and tries to grind them together, while Prompto starts to buck his hips against Noctis’.

When the first groan worms out of Noctis’ throat, muffled in Prompto’s mouth, Noctis reminds himself not to let Prompto get _too_ good with that—he doesn’t want to come too fast again. He’s still embarrassed over last time. But he knows it could easily happen again. He has some experience, but not all the way, and not with anyone as hot as Prompto. Watching Prompto in streams is amazing, but it doesn’t even touch the real thing. A part of him wants to just rip off his pants and start instantly, because if he doesn’t fuck Prompto immediately, he might not last long enough to do it at all.

“Did you like my stream last night?” Prompto purrs between kisses, stirring Noctis’ interest even more. He doesn’t have to ask if Noctis watched, because Noctis broke down and commented, even though he knows he has to wean himself off of it. Eventually, they will have to stop. They’ll switch to _private_ streams instead. But in the moment, sometimes Noctis can’t help himself—Prompto’s just so _beautiful_ , and Noctis wants him so badly.

Noctis answers huskily, “I tipped you the highest, didn’t I?” Prompto laughs—Noctis always tips the highest. He has the most money, and he’s the most impressed. He nips at the corner of Prompto’s lips and hisses, “That was so fucking _hot_ , when you took that toy all the way down your throat... you have no idea how much I wished that was _my_ dick fucking your mouth...”

“ _I_ wish it was your dick,” Prompto groans. He bucks into Noctis’ hips again, scattering kisses all over Noctis’ face. “You know I was pretending it was you... I was practicing...”

Noctis is rock hard. Prompto’s perfect. Prompto grinds their clothed cocks together, and all Noctis can think about is Prompto going down on that fake cock and pulling off to beg for more. He even licked and kissed the plastic balls, going to town on the toy, really showing how much he’d worship his prince. Noctis came mid-stream and was almost hard again by the end of it. 

Prompto kisses Noctis’ temple, shifts to lick the shell of Noctis’ ear, and moans, “Can I please have the real thing...?”

Noctis doesn’t even pause to nod, he’s so quick to undo his pants. Prompto grins wide and tries to help, hands joining Noctis’ in the race to open his fly. Then Noctis is lifting off the bed, taking Prompto with him, and Prompto yelps as he holds onto Noctis’ shoulders. It gives Noctis the room to push his pants and underwear down, so when he settles back, he can pull his cock out fully. 

Prompto looks delighted. He gives Noctis a full, long kiss on the lips, then kisses Noctis’ jaw, his throat, his chest, right down to his stomach. Prompto’s just crawled back on his knees, hovering over Noctis’ crotch, when Noctis thinks to pant, “Wait—condom...”

“I don’t care,” Prompto promises, diverting a kiss to Noctis’ thigh. Noctis groans and thrusts up, slapping Prompto’s face with his cock. He doesn’t care either. Or rather, doesn’t want one. He wants to take Prompto _raw_ , to feel every bit of Prompto on him. 

But Ignis is in his ear, and somehow, he manages to insist, “No, we should...”

Prompto doesn’t protest again. He reaches back into his jeans and pulls one out—clearly, he came prepared. He rips the wrapper open with his teeth, then rolls it right onto Noctis’ dick—having Prompto’s fingers there, even as light as the touch is, almost makes him burst. Prompto carefully smoothes it down, then chastely kisses the extra bubble at the head. Noctis’ cock twitches—he knows he’s going to come shamefully fast again. In his defense, it’s _Prompto._

“I’ll get tested again soon,” Prompto murmurs. Noctis is barely listening, because he’s focused on watching Prompto nuzzle into his hard dick. “Then I’ll show you the paperwork, okay? I really wanna taste you properly, and have your bare dick inside me...”

Noctis loves the sound of that. He nods vigorously and returns, “I’d get tested too, but...” but he cuts off. If he got sighted going to a clinic... and he couldn’t just ask the family doctor; she’d report it to his father. But he’s never had full on sex before anyway. He doesn’t want to tell Prompto that.

“It’s okay,” Prompto laughs. “I feel like I would’ve heard about it if my prince had an STD...”

Noctis groans, and only half out of embarrassment. The other half is because Prompto’s started mouthing at him and he’s not going to make it. 

After way too much time spent just playing with Noctis’ nether regions—nosing at his shaft, mouthing at his balls, licking his inner thighs—Prompto finally pulls back and opens up. Then he descends onto Noctis, taking it halfway down all in one swoop, and Noctis’ hips shoot off the mattress.

Prompto catches them and pins them back down. Noctis is too busy moaning to apologize. It feels _so_ good. The heat of it’s amazing, but the pressure’s even better, feeling Prompto’s tight cavern squeeze his sides. He can feel Prompto’s tongue lapping at the underside, and there’s barely any scrape from Prompto’s teeth—Prompto seems to know just what to do with his lips. Noctis has to remind himself that Prompto practiced. Just for this. Just for blowing _Noctis._ It’s _awesome_.

It’s all Noctis can do to hold himself back. He clutches onto the blankets beneath him for dear life while Prompto starts bobbing up and down. Each thrust onto Noctis’ cock is another threat to Noctis’ self control, but he valiantly bears it. He wants to twist his fingers through Prompto’s blond hair, but he doesn’t trust himself enough not to push Prompto down and choke him. Prompto takes his own time, going a little bit further with each push, taking Noctis down his throat, until he’s swallowed it all down and is nuzzling into Noctis’ stomach. Even with the condom between them, Noctis has never felt so good.

But the best part of it is looking down at Prompto, seeing his mouth stretched wide and his pretty blue eyes half-lidded and dilated. Prompto’s freckled cheeks are flushed. It actually looks like he’s _enjoying_ himself, like he was built to take Noctis’ cock, and tasting it really is an honour. Noctis has seen Prompto salivate over this scenario on camera, trying to fill himself up with various toys and always whimpering that none could match his prince. It looks like somehow, the real thing really is living up to his expectations.

When Prompto starts sucking on him, hard and fast, twisting with each thrust on and off, Noctis has no hope. He can’t take it. He comes in Prompto’s mouth with a feral cry and his knuckles white against the mattress. Prompto pushes fully on and stays there while Noctis spasms in his throat.

He wishes he could feel Prompto swallowing it down. He’s already annoyed at himself for suggesting a condom. But he’s too dizzy and happy to be _really_ annoyed. When the orgasm’s washed through and he’s left in its giddy wake, he pets through Prompto hair and mutters, “Fuck, you’re _perfect_.”

Prompto smiles around his cock, then slowly pulls off. A thin string of drool stretches between Prompto’s lips and the condom afterwards, but it breaks when he sits up. Noctis mutters a weak, “Sorry,” as Prompto fondly strokes his flagging cock. 

“It’s cool. ...Okay, you might think I’m a little gross for this, but I’m seriously considering licking that condom out...”

Noctis’ softening dick twitches, and he groans, “If you talk like that, I’m going to get hard again.”

Grinning, Prompto quips, “That’s the plan.”

A loud knock sounds on the door, and Noctis nearly jumps out of his skin. Prompto really does jump, whirling around. Gladiolus’ voice booms through the wood, “Hey, Noct, you in there?”

A split second for the shock to pass, and Noctis shouts, face completely pink, “Go away; I’m busy!”

“Too bad! Iris is having a slumber party and I need a place to crash.”

“So go crash on the couch!”

“C’mon, it’s not even completely dark out yet! Stop being a loser and come play some games ‘n shit with me!”

Noctis pauses, and Prompto looks at him like an anak in headlights. After a moment of thinking and coming up with nothing, Noctis hesitantly admits, “I, uh... I kind of have company...”

He doesn’t know what to expect after that, but it’s not Gladiolus’ raucous laughter. “About time! But hey, there’s no way I can leave you alone now—royal shield an all that! You and your buddy bet get your asses out here—I’ll give you five minutes before I bust the door down!”

Now that Noctis is listening for it, he can hear the footsteps recede. He sinks back against the headboard, horribly embarrassed. Prompto shifts awkwardly and insists, “It’s fine.”

“It’s so not fine.”

Shrugging helplessly, Prompto asks, “Next time?”

“Next time. Definitely. _Nothing_ will stop us next time.”

Prompto’s grin is so warm and genuine that for that moment, Noctis forgets all of his problems, including both his cockblocking advisors. Sitting up, Prompto leans in to peck Noctis’ cheek. Noctis pulls him in for a proper kiss, even though his mouth tastes off. 

Then Prompto kindly looks away while Noctis cleans himself up and makes a break for the washroom before Gladiolus can corner him.


	3. As Prophesied.

The third time they try to make it happen is far from their third time together—things start coming up in between: Noctis popping in to help Prompto study, Prompto joining Noctis and his retainers for lunch, Noctis tagging along for Prompto’s shorter photography gigs, little stolen moments wherever they can. By the time they get a proper chance to be _alone_ again, Prompto’s nearly shaking with anticipation. Just _hanging out_ with Noctis is fun in and of itself: they get along like childhood best friends. But they’re grown men with hormones, and Prompto needs _more_.

Prompto invites Noctis over for as long as he can stay. Noctis agrees. Prompto answers the doorbell with an extra skip in his step, whipping the door open to grin.

Noctis offers a half-hearted smile in return. Prompto doesn’t read too much into the way his shoulders are slumped and his gaze falls—Prompto knows that Noctis has the toughest job imaginable. Stress is a part of his life. Prompto’s expression turns sympathetic, and he steps back to let Noctis inside.

Dressed in black from head to toe, Noctis looks ridiculously cool. His boots are huge, but now Prompto knows why—Noctis likes to fish, and he tries to sneak off to do that whenever he can get a chance, which sometimes is at the drop of the hat. Gladiolus often goes with him, preferring to camp. When they first met, Noctis said he didn’t have a lot of friends, but Prompto’s now sure that both his retainers do deeply care for him. It’s just a different, semi-brotherly, semi-paternal sort of love, whereas Noctis and Prompto are like two peas in a pod. When Noctis has gotten out of his boots and hung up his jacket, he turns expectantly to Prompto. 

“It’s really okay for you to be over here?” Prompto checks. At first, he wouldn’t have even thought about bringing the prince home to his little shack. His apartment’s cheap and half-empty, half-messy. It’s _nothing_ next to Noctis’. But no one else has the key to Prompto’s place, and the people with keys to Noctis’ seem to pop in a little too often.

Noctis nods and insists, “It’s fine.” Prompto hopes so. He knows that if they did get into any sort of fight, Noctis could take him easily. With all of Noctis’ skills and royal training, it’d take one hell of an assassin to bring him down.

Noctis wanders a few steps into the place to look around on his own, and Prompto follows, not offering a tour because there’s nothing much to show. The living room and kitchenette are grouped together with no real space for a dining area, which is fine, because Prompto tends to eat on the couch anyway. His TV’s significantly smaller than Noctis’. His game collection isn’t even close to what Noctis’ is, but it’s still impressive in its own right, and Prompto’s proud of the display.

Noctis picks his way across the open space, glancing about but keeping his light frown. After a few awkward seconds of silence, Prompto feels compelled to say, “Hey, I know it’s not much... maybe we could go to a hotel or som—no, wait, can’t do that, that won’t look ‘friendly’ for the press... um...”

Noctis looks around at him. “What? It’s fine...”

“It’s okay. I can tell you’re disappointed, and I don’t mind that, seriously, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable...”

“I’m not uncomfortable. I...” After trailing off, Noctis sucks in a deep breath. His cheeks flush, which always makes him irresistible to Prompto, and then he drops his head into his hands and groans, “Shit, I’m sorry. It’s just... I got a lecture from Ignis in the car on the ride over...” The hand falls away from his face to dip into his pants’ pocket, and he pulls out the little crinkled packet of a condom. “It was pretty much the most embarrassing moment of my life. I’m still recovering.”

Prompto bites the inside of his mouth and tries really, _really_ hard not to laugh. He can see Noctis is shaken, which is understandable—Prompto would faint if his parents gave him a lecture and a condom at his age. It might be even worse for Noctis, because Prompto’s fairly certain than Ignis isn’t that much older than Noctis is. He’s just... very invested in making sure Noctis makes smart decisions. Which is ultimately a good thing. It’s hard not to be amused by how much Noctis’ retainers care about him—at least, when they’re not jumping in to be cock-blocks, anyway.

With a sympathetic, “ _Aw_ ,” Prompto steps in and envelops Noctis in a warm hug. Noctis snorts but leans back into it.

Prompto soothingly rubs his back, and Noctis laughs, “Thanks.”

Prompto promises, “Any time.” When he steps away afterwards, he clasps Noctis’ forearms and insists, “It’s gonna be okay, bud.” 

Noctis playfully punches his arm. It was worth it—the frown’s melted away in favour of a grin that Prompto can’t help but return. On the bright side, Prompto notes, “That means everybody’s cool with you being here, yeah?”

“Yeah... at first I was gonna just pass it off like we were gonna play a quick game, but... I was kind of hoping I might be able to stay the night, so I kind of had to spill the beans... not that he didn’t already know I was super into you...”

Prompto’s heart clenches. He really, really hopes that Noctis does stay the night—that they can fall asleep all tangled up, sweaty and half naked, and Prompto can wake up in his own bed with the man of his dreams still in his arms. He definitely likes the thought of that.

He does point out, “I have a gig tomorrow evening, but...”

“Any classes in the morning?”

“Nope.”

“Awesome, ‘cause I like to sleep in. Like, I’m gonna hibernate in your bed kind of sleep in.”

“That’s fine. I was gonna chain your ankle to the bedpost anyway.”

Noctis laughs, and Prompto winks. He’s completely joking—he’d never _actually_ tie Noctis up. Unless Noctis wanted him to. Because Prompto does have plenty of bondage gear in the boxes under his bed, and he certainly wouldn’t mind breaking them out for his boyfriend.

That thought trips him up, because he’s not completely sure they are boyfriends yet. But he at least knows they’re headed there. Noctis obviously likes him. He _loves_ Noctis. He glances towards the living room, wondering if he should tug Noctis over to the couch. They have plenty of time now—they could do a movie or some games. Or start making dinner or order food.

Or he could tug Noctis straight to the bedroom, which is what he ultimately does, intertwining their fingers and heading off. Noctis goes without one word of protest, and he grins when they do reach the bedroom, even though Prompto’s is smaller than Noctis’. The curtains are drawn, the furniture little more than a bed, desk, and nightstand, and the closet doors are wedged shut because Prompto stuffed everything in there in his mad dash to clean up before Noctis arrived. Not that he thinks Noctis would care about mess. Noctis only seems to care about one thing. He takes half a second to look around, then fists a hand in Prompto’s hair and pulls him in for a kiss.

It’s been over two weeks since the last time they were alone, but they pick up again like they never stopped—mouths working and hands roaming. Prompto flattens himself right into Noctis, forcing Noctis to stumble back, backing him into the wall and rutting into him as their kissing escalates to full on making out. Even though Prompto’s been releasing all that pent up energy in wild, energetic streams, nothing compares to the real thing. He’s hungry and needy for Noctis. It takes Noctis several tries to break apart long enough to mutter, “’M sorry about last time... and the time before that...”

“S’fine,” Prompto insists, closing in on Noctis again. He loves the way Noctis kisses. It’s sloppy and inexperienced but passionate, and Prompto can’t get enough. Noctis shakes his head. 

“No, it’s not... I got off, and you...”

“I came so hard when I got home,” Prompto promises. “I replayed the whole thing in my mind and screamed your name when I finished...”

Noctis shivers. He has to believe it, because he tuned in for the streams—the ones right afterwards where Prompto would fuck himself absolutely mercilessly and sob and babble for his prince. Noctis tipped well—he must’ve liked it. Prompto keeps reminding himself to tell Noctis to stop that. He feels bad taking Noctis’ money, and he’d much rather take Noctis’ body. 

Noctis is the one to push them back from the wall. He shoves Prompto towards the bed, and Prompto lets himself collapse down onto the mattress, his hands staying on Noctis’ hips as he goes. Noctis crawls on beside him in between another slew of kisses. He mumbles as he goes, “I want to satisfy you too...” Prompto groans—he already is satisfied. He’s so flattered. He turns when Noctis does, the two of them shuffling back and aligning themselves properly, trying to get room. Prompto doesn’t have the bed properly made, and he kicks the blankets off when they get in the way too much. Noctis follows after him, continually capturing his mouth, and goes on, “Hey, I, uh... don’t have a lot of experience... if you wanna top, that’s cool...”

Prompto doesn’t have a lot either, but he knows what he’s doing. He thinks on it for a moment, torn between the two awesome possibilities—having Noctis in him or being inside Noctis. Both sound amazing, and he wants both eventually, but for the first time, he decides, “Nah, I want you to take me now. Unless you want...”

“Fuck,” Noctis groans, breaking off as Prompto reaches down to squeeze him through his pants. “I’ll do anything you want...”

A shiver snakes through Prompto’s entire body. He still can’t believe how lucky he is. He kisses Noctis’ cheek, licks at Noctis’ earlobe, and murmurs into it, “I want to feel you inside me.”

Noctis’ moan is filthy. He could easily do porn if he wanted—he’d be way more popular than Prompto. His status would be a problem, of course, but Prompto still can’t help thinking how photogenic he is, how great he sounds, how _good_ it feels to partner with him. Even though he’s come twice without Prompto, Prompto still can’t help but think that Noctis must be a generous lover. He certainly pays enough attention to Prompto, kissing and licking everywhere, hands running all down his body. When Noctis first tugs at Prompto’s shirt, Prompto decides they’ve got too many clothes between them. 

He pushes back, laughing playfully as Noctis chases his mouth. He has to get off the bed before he’s finally left alone. Then he strips his shirt off while Noctis eyes him up, gaze burning. Having Noctis watching him gives Prompto that extra thrill he loves, the one the camera gives him, and he rewards Noctis for indulging that by putting on a show. He sways his hips as he slowly pushes down his jeans, arching further with each centimeter, until the fabric’s hit the floor. Then he straightens up and runs one hand down his body, the other pinching one nipple as he bites his lower lip and glances bashfully towards his prince.

Noctis reaches out to grab him by the waist and jerk him forward, hissing, “C’mere—fuck, you’re gorgeous...”

“You too.” Prompto lets himself be tugged into Noctis’ lap as their mouths find each other again. Prompto sucks Noctis’ tongue into his mouth when Noctis’ hands slide down his hips and grasp his rear, squeezing and kneading his cheeks. His cock twitches against Noct’s stomach, caught against the fabric. Noctis seems perfectly content to just feel Prompto up, until Prompto can’t take it anymore and paws at Noctis’ shirt. 

Noctis nods, muttering, “Right.” When his hands leave Prompto’s body to clutch his shirt’s hem, Prompto hurriedly shuffles back to fish around in his nightstand. He gets the lube out while Noctis is still tugging his shirt over his head. Then he can start fingering himself open while Noctis unclasps his belt and slowly pushes out of them.

Watching Noctis strip is just as fun as being watched himself. Prompto rubs impatiently at his hole, poking one blunt finger inside as soon as he can, and that catches Noctis’ eye—he slows his movements, gaze fixed on Prompto’s crotch. Prompto leans back along the bed, angling his hips up, to give Noctis a better view. Noctis seems to appreciate it. He stares while he gradually sheds his last bit of clothing, and then he’s sitting there, perched on Prompto’s bed, as naked as the day that he was born. Prompto couldn’t be more turned on. 

“I love watching you do that on your show,” Noctis mutters. Prompto can tell. Noctis keeps staring while Prompto inserts a second finger, and then, on the third, Noctis breaks and leans over Prompto to scatter kisses everywhere. His hands roam again—he cups and plays with Prompto’s breast and strokes Prompto’s thigh at the same time. Prompto’s cock longs to be touched, and finally, Prompto gives in to it. 

He pulls his fingers out, lies back down to rest his head on his pillow, and spreads his legs wide. All he has to do is breath, “ _Noct_ ,” and Noctis comes right to him. They’re kissing again in a heartbeat. Then Noctis parts them to fumble through his discarded pants and find the condom. Prompto thinks of offering to put it on, but he doesn’t want to risk touching Noctis’ dick, getting too carried away, and having Noctis come. He doesn’t think either of them will last very long once the actual sex starts, but he wants them to start anyway, to practice, so they can get to the point where they can just lie back and have sex for hours. 

The very thought of being naked and intertwined with Noctis has Prompto moaning. Noctis glances over but doesn’t stop taking the condom out and rolling it down his cock. He does an admirable job, getting it done swiftly and efficiently. As soon as it’s on, he scoots up between Prompto’s legs, lifts them up over his thighs, and asks, “Are you ready?”

Prompto’s been ready for years. He nods and begs, “Fuck me, Noct, fuck me _now._ ”

Noctis doesn’t have to be told twice. He lines himself up and thrusts forward, only to slide up Prompto’s thigh. Noctis swears, blushing, but Prompto doesn’t care—he wriggles his hips and insists, “Try it again.” He doesn’t want to waste any more time being embarrassed. Noctis listens, and on that thrust, he pops in.

Prompto _moans_. He arches up, closing his eyes and breathing hard, adjusting to the feeling of something firm and wide poking into his body. Noctis’ hands find his hips, and Noctis’ cock pushes a little further, rocking deeper with slow, steady thrusts, small but poignant. Each one catches Prompto’s breath. When he forces his eyes open again, he finds Noctis staring hazily down at him. Prompto tilts his chin up, and Noctis somehow reads his mind—Noctis dips down to give Prompto a kiss. Prompto savours that as Noctis slides in, pushing deeper until he’s buried to the hilt. Then he pauses, shudders, and Prompto clenches down to leave them both crying out.

It’s hardly the biggest thing he’s ever taken up his ass—he has toys modeled after beasts. But Noctis is still _big_ , long and thick, warm and pulsing inside him, and it feels _so good_ to have Noctis leaning over him. Noctis bends down slowly, muttering, “Six, you’re tight... it’s... ahh... _amazing_...” 

Prompto smiles and gets another kiss. He nuzzles his forehead against Noctis, then clamps down again and pleads, “Fuck me, Noct. _Fuck me_ , please.”

Nods shakily nods. He starts to slide out, making it halfway before he slams back inside, rough and quick. He licks his lips and mutters, “Sorry,” even though Prompto loves it, and he tries again. He begins with just rocking in and out, clearly restraining himself and _trying_ to go slowly, but his thrusts are jerky and staccato. Prompto doesn’t care. He’d take anything from Noctis. He still has to make an effort to hold himself back. 

Sometimes Noctis hits the right angle, and Prompto cries out or moans, and other times he misses, which is fine, because Prompto needs those moments to recover. Every glorious slide of Noctis’ cock into his wet channel is more than welcome. It looks like Noctis is enjoying it just as much—his face is screwed up in concentration, dilated eyes all over Prompto. 

Halfway through, Noctis seems to find his rhythm. He picks it up and moves faster, harder, then shifts one hand to grasp Prompto’s cock. Prompto joins it just long enough to spread the last remnants of lube and ease the way. He wraps his own arms around Noctis’ shoulders, knees lifting to cling to Noctis’ sides. Noctis pumps him and fucks him, filling the room with raw slapping noises to rival their moans. 

It’s too much for Prompto. He loves Noctis too much, and he’s wanted this so long, and even if it’s sudden and clumsy, it’s perfect, because it’s _real_. And it’s just the beginning. They can do it again and again afterwards, learn everything, try everything, take turns and pull out Prompto’s toys and—

He comes first, tossing back and screaming as he bursts in Noctis’ hand. He has just enough wherewithal to register that Noctis is groaning in delight. Noctis fucks him right through the orgasm, which is just what Prompto wants. He splatters both of their stomachs before slumping back and whining, wondrously sated.

Noctis doesn’t last much longer—a few more thrusts and he comes too, moaning, “ _Prompto_ ,” as he finishes. It raises goose bumps all over Prompto’s body. He luxuriates in that moment, never wanting it to end. But it does, and Noctis’ hips slow, head falling to rest on the crook of Prompto’s shoulder. The two of them lie there, heavily panting, until Prompto starts to get sore.

He squirms, and Noctis mutters, “Sorry,” before pulling out. Then he rolls right back onto Prompto’s side and curls up there. He breathes against the side of Prompto’s face, “That was so good.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agrees. He doesn’t have the breath for more words. But he does manage to press a kiss into Noctis’ cheek. Noctis looks at him with fogged-over eyes. Prompto doesn’t ever want to move.

After another few quite minutes, Noctis mumbles, “’M glad we did this first. Y’know, instead of a movie or whatever.”

Prompto hums, “Why?”

“Because now I’ll have time to recover so we can do it again. And then again after that. And a fourth time, if we can squeeze it in there.”

Grinning broadly, Prompto rolls over to kiss him properly. Noctis lazily returns it, and then Prompto scoops him up in a sweaty, naked embrace full of love.


End file.
